Caught
by Wouter Jaegers
Summary: It could have only lasted for a while, Jerry knew that but the way reality finally caught up with him was something he never envisioned.


**"Caught"**

A Tom and Jerry Fanfiction story by Wouter Jaegers

So there I was, on death row if you want to call it that, after such a long time, I was finally caught and locked up. Of course I know I had it coming, I did a lot of things that just weren't right, I am a thief, I am a loiterer, I'm a heath hazard, heck I am a mouse.

I wonder what Tom would say if he saw me now, he probably would be smiling in satisfaction, finally justice for all the torment I put him through. How many times has he been kicked out of homes because of me? I lost count really, it became a sort of personal vendetta for me to have him kicked out of whatever home he was let into. A cat has it easy when it comes to to finding a place to stay, they are cute, have a soft fur and keep the house clean from vermin, vermin like me.

So why DID I chose Tom out of thousands of cats to torment? I don't know really, I actually got to know him really well during all those years, he was very dedicated to his job and as stubborn as a mule. He knew he'd get me someday and finally all the hardship I put him through would be vindicated. The sad truth was that a big truck got to him first.

I remember it clear as day, I had just plundered the fridge and as usual gave Tom the blame for it which resulted in him uncerimonously being thrown out onto the streets. I can still see Tom getting back on his feet when all of a sudden the low pitched growl of a V-12 engine raced towards him. I couldn't bear to watch the demise of him but only seconds after it happened I heard the lady who had just thrown Tom out scream "THOMAS! OH NO!" before running towards the scene of the accident. She went inside again and called the ASPCA but any help already was too late.

I quietly monitored the activity as the inspectors of the ASPCA questioned her about why she threw Tom out of the house in the first place. She took them to the fridge I plundered earlier to show them "What Tom had done." The officer of the ASPCA apparently had worked on such cases before because he looked straight away at the marks I left, his knowledge and eagle eyes made me feel really uncomfortable, I was in for big trouble.

"Ma'am, this wasn't done by your cat. These are traces of a mouse, a very bold and extremely violent mouse." He told her while carefully explaining how a mouse could make the cat look like the culprit. I never considered myself to be violent but in the way he described my actions, I must have made Al Capone look as harmless as a Goldfish in a bowl by comparison.

I quietly followed the inspector as he led the lady to my hole and I felt myself shaking, that hole was filled with evidence of my previous raids, the ones I made Tom take the blame for. Heck it even contained the pictures that Tom took of me as evidence that I was behind all the things he got blamed for. As he reached in and pulled out my carefully hidden loot, I decided to jump ship, it was getting way too hot under my feet.

As a mouse, finding a home is an easy task, it mostly a thing of just crossing the street and I knew this neighborhood for my whole life and they knew about me as well. Or should I say, they knew about me thanks to the many things I did I gave Tom the blame for. But with Tom gone, I as yet had no idea how far reaching the Legacy of Tom would turn out to be for me.

Because only a few days after Tom's death more and more people started finding out that everything I made Tom take the blame for, was the work of a mouse. Yep you read it right, of a mouse, not mice but of a single mouse. More and more of my previous holes were discovered and the secrets that lay in them were layed bare and with each one Tom's name was cleared many times over. After a while everybody knew everything about me, short of my name of course. And a whole army of cats decided to vindicate their fallen comrade by opening a full scale mouse-hunt on me. Almost overnight, the tables were turned on me, I was exposed as the bad guy.

And it wasn't long until a very lucky break for a rookie exterminator led to my capture and as if being caught by a bespectacled curly haired zit covered faced exterminator wasn't humiliating enough, it was his way of capturing me that really gets me seething in anger towards myself for falling for it. Paper with glue on it. After he caught me, I was put in a cardboard container but one made from this special kind of cardboard which I couldn't chew my way through.

As he carried me away from the house, I saw various inhabitants of the houses where I used to live and where Tom used to live come out and walk towards him. They all wanted to see the little criminal that got away with doing so much bad stuff and getting the poor cat blamed for it, for themselves. Tom would have been proud, every single owner he had, everybody who threw him out because of something I did, was there and stood up for him. I swear I could almost hear him laugh. And in a way I agreed with him, it was only a matter of time before the true bad guy got his just deserved.

The people started talking about giving me a name, so they'd always remember that bold and brutal mouse that stole, was a health hazard and loitered. They wanted to put a name to that tiny whiskered rodent that was finally caught after running free for far too long. They turned to the man who caught me, apparently he was the guy who would get the honor of naming me. They asked him if I was a male or a female, if I really were that cunning as everybody made me out to be. I still cringe when I remeber hearing him say that I was grossly overestimated because I had been taken capture so easily. He had no possible way of knowing how many times and in how many ways Tom tried to capture me but always failed because of either bad luck or me outsmarting him and yet I was forever branded a dumbass for falling for such an easy trap.

As for the name he gave me, he looked at the house where I was captured and saw a cherry tree in the yard so "Cherry" would have been the obvious choice, but because he already discovered my gender he wanted me to have a more masculine name. As he put me into the back of his van, ready to take me to the incinerator, he said the name that I will carry out loud. "Jerry"

And so here I am, in this cardboard prison in the back of this exterminator's van as we pull up the final turn into the exterminator's office, it looks like a normal building made of grey cinderblocks, I'm sure that it it had been any other building I might have lived there, raiding the fridge, making a mess, being a mouse. But this is not a normal building, here my arrival will NOT lead to a cat being booted onto the street because of something I did. In the distance I hear a belltower chime, it's five o'clock. I see the door of the van being opened, I see the hand of the exterminator reaching out and grab the box that contains me and I feel the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it. The same feeling that Tom must have felt many times over. As the exterminator carries me towards the door, I am reminded of Tom's jaws, his rough tongue, his pearly white fangs, the ragged edges along the inners of his mouth that keep food from sliding back out. The electric doors of the office slide open and the little hum of their engines reminds me of Tom's purring.

As the doors start to close behind the Exterminator I can almost vision the face of this office building to be the face of a gigantic cat, a cat that has swallowed me whole and is purring in satisfaction because of getting me. And I wouldn't be surprised if that gigantic cat turns out to be Tom.

The End


End file.
